Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Djibouti and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Soulsonic Force to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Dark Day,
Stockholm Monsters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Womack,
The Residents,
Visage,
Von Mondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Delta 5,
Cluster,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moss Icon,
Roxette,
Minnie Riperton,
Isaac Hayes,
David Bowie,
Swans,
Monolake,
Roy Ayers,
Bang On A Can,
Minutemen,
The Sound,
The Martian,
Goldenarms,
The Black Dice,
Smog,
The Five Americans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moby Grape,
Peter & Gordon,
In Retrospect,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bill Near,
Gichy Dan,
Thee Headcoats,
Derrick Morgan,
Man Parrish,
Deakin,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Byrd,
June of 44,
This Heat,
the Normal,
Soulsonic Force,
Negative Approach,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New York Dolls,
Albert Ayler,
The Wake,
Rakim,
Alphaville,
The Names,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-101,
the Germs,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.